Intimacy
by sopmire
Summary: An intense incident exposes DiNozzo's dark personal mandate, disturbing his Probie. Core team. Rating T, bad language and adult notions.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Rating mostly for (but not limited to) swearing… why must bad guys cuss so much? Somewhere in mid Season 9, pre-Dearing. This story not really connected to my others, altho could be seen as prequel to a certain conversation between two agents. Also, disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been a neurobiologist. Totally guessing folks. Enjoy!_

Chapter 1

The early morning raid had been called into action so quickly Gibbs was still stuck in MTAC finishing an op that had developed complications overnight. As Agents DiNozzo, McGee and David silently cleared room after room of the dilapidated textile warehouse in the pre-dawn stillness, they all hoped this was finally the right location.

A reliable source on the street had called Agent DiNozzo just after midnight with the apparently temporary location of a group that had killed a Navy Commander, then taken his wife and two teenage children three weeks ago. Two weeks ago, the NCIS team had managed to find the family - in addition to three other victims all held together before being sold into slavery. Bringing grief to the agents, it unfortunately wasn't before all the victims had been sexually assaulted and traumatized, but at least it was before they had all been shipped out of the country, probably to even worse treatment.

The team's passion to make this group of men pay made determining their identities, history and location an obsessive priority. In the past two weeks Gibbs' MCRT had thoroughly established the identities and global criminal backgrounds of the group led by Tauriq Hennesy, but until the tip, their location was still unknown. Multiple cold leads, recently cleaned out apartments and buildings had frustrated the team horribly, oddly bringing them even tighter together as a unit after an inevitable snappish phase.

As DiNozzo cleared what had been a storage room, he heard both McGee and Ziva in the large outer room shout out "Federal Agents! Put your guns down!" Rushing in himself, he saw a stalemate with two men pointing guns at his Agents. Covering the men from a better angle, he recognized them from photos as Hennesy's associates. Tony couldn't help but be grateful this was the right place, right time.

As the sunlight of dawn lit the warehouse's filthy windows, the subject of their raid suddenly popped up behind Tony in the wide hall. Tony and his Sig Sauer swiveled instantly to cover the new arrival, "Freeze Tauriq Hennesy! Federal Agents! I have a message for you!"

Ziva and McGee were familiar with DiNozzo's methods of getting unpredictable suspects to lock in on him, and both made sure to be on their toes for whatever came next. McGee hoped Tony really had one of those instant-plans of his instead of this being just a stalling maneuver. 3:3 odds with proven international killers was not ideal… at all.

Ziva found the odds acceptable; they could probably kill these men while only being injured non-fatally themselves. But she knew they wanted at least one of the men to talk, to reveal the international members and locations of the full network. And for that, they had to be able to speak... unfortunately. She hoped Tony's mouth paid off since they had no Gibbs coming in for backup. Even the on-call team was already deployed when the raid began - any backup would be well delayed. The only reason these men hadn't shot on sight was probably the 24hr gym attached to the side of the warehouse. But how many patrons could there be at dawn on Sunday morning? Ziva hoped Hennesy's group didn't think of that.

Tony walked straight to the new arrival slowly, eyes locked and unblinking as he continued speaking. "You're the big man in charge, eh Tauriq? I'm glad to get a chance to speak with you before anyone gets injured. You didn't realize it, but your whole life has been building to this one moment, with me. Tony. Tony DiNozzo. We're about to get very well acquainted Tauriq. Do you know why that is?"

Hennessy's snide reply was immediate, "You think I give a flying fuck who you are _Tony_? We're evenly matched shithead, and it's me and my men that are walking out of here." Hennesy's gun didn't waver from its aim straight at DiNozzo's head.

But as he continued speaking, DiNozzo's aim didn't waver either, nor did his hand shake, as he finally stopped walking forward... standing almost chest to chest with the slightly taller man. Hennesy snarled as he followed DiNozzo's example of pointing the tip of his gun barrel against his enemy's temple.

"Your men? Who knows Tauriq, there's a chance they'll give up, walk out of here. I don't really give a shit about them at the moment, I can rely on my partners to deal with that. No, it's you and me that's the main attraction here, and I've been waiting for you _my… whole… life_."

Hennesy's eyebrows furrowed scornfully, but he was becoming confused, unable to look away from the intense dark green eyes, and a tiny frisson of unease was making its way up his spine. "What the hell is your deal shithead? My men and I got no problem killing - cops, agents or anybody else. Your _partners_ and you want us alive and you to walk out of here; you're what we call _conflicted_ in this game shithead. You got the problem here."

Tony only blinked when Hennesy did, and his low rich voice slowly purred into Hennesy's ear. "See that's where you're wrong Tauriq. I've spent the past three weeks investigating your entire life and I'm amazingly confident I know _what… you… are_."

Tony's eyes bore straight into Hennesy's brown as his measured words continued.

"And I don't _care_ if you live or die…"

His voice lowered and strained even farther, "…and I don't care if I do _either_."

Hennesy froze, feeling cold wash over his whole body, the hand holding his Glock felt like ice. "The Hell?" he whispered.

Tony leaned even closer slowly, his hypnotic voice echoing deeply in Hennesy's head… and utterly distracting to the room behind him.

"You're why I exist Tauriq. You're what my life is for. What it's _supposed_ to be spent on. _This is how it's supposed to end for me_, in five minutes or five weeks. I'm perfectly comfortable in this moment between us Tauriq, this incredibly… intimate moment. But _you_ Tauriq," Tony gently shook his head, "you're not supposed to end right here, right now. Are you?" He successfully led Hennesy in mirroring the shaking head.

But Hennesy rallied briefly, suddenly remembering his body and it's current aim at this man's head. "I'll just shoot you first man, give you your damn moment."

The smile on Tony's face disturbed Hennesy, almost like a teacher's smile at favorite pupil getting an answer right. The low intense delivery continued, "You would think that wouldn't you Tauriq? One person shoots first, no chance at a miss, he's the one eating breakfast this morning while the other is zipped into an airtight bag for delivery to a man with sharp knives to verify the giant dripping hole in the side of his head was the cause of death."

Although Hennesy's chin lifted slightly, he also swallowed convulsively.

"But you haven't made it your business to figure the math on head shots have you Tauriq? You made it your business to become an expert on torture for profit and the human slave trade - and you're very good at that Tauriq. But Tony here, I've seen too many head shots close up, and studied armament to improve my skills and catch bad guys for too long not to get curious at the _combination_… the _math_ Tauriq. That's what lets me _know_, with _confidence_, that if you shoot first, my brain still has .5, maybe .6 seconds to follow through any physical action it's instructed to do. And do you know how long it takes me to pull the trigger on my Sig Sauer Tauriq?"

The wide eyes and sweat rolling down Hennesy's face seemed to indicate he was re-thinking the situation. And that he hadn't a clue as to the question's answer.

"About .3 seconds. I might even get in two shots as I conclude my very expected and timely moment here in this hall. But that means you will be dead _too_ Tauriq."

Giving Hennesy a chance to digest this fact, Tony continued, "That's where my message to you comes in Tauriq: _Now is not your time to die._ Now is your time to go along quietly and there's still a chance for you. A chance your case will be thrown out on a technicality. A chance you make an important contact in prison before being transferred to a mental health facility you could break out of."

The intense low delivery rose in volume as DiNozzo drove his point home. "In five minutes, _and _five weeks, _you are supposed to be alive Tauriq Hennesy_."

The two men had forgotten about anything outside each other's eyes, the same breath passing between them over and over again. Bodies pressed together along the torso, feet entangled, as close as lovers.

Tony now led Hennesy in nodding his head slightly in affirmation. "Now is the time for you to put your gun in my hand and _live_ Tauriq."

Feeling Tauriq's gun set gently in his lifted left hand, Tony slid the safety on without breaking eye contact. Nodding slightly one more time, he instructed, "And tell your men to put down their weapons. It's time for _all_ of us to walk out of here."

To Tauriq it seemed like hours since the dawn. Nodding his head dazedly, shoulders starting to relax, he said, "Put them down."

His two longtime associates were hard men, but one was primarily in charge of accounts and contracts; Paul Jacobs put his weapon down immediately. The other, Jason Blevin, was far more lethal, being in charge of the 'information extraction' side of the business. He felt betrayed and disgusted by his former leader giving up without a fight to some slick Fed with hypnosis or some such crap. Blevin muttered under his breath, "Fuck this shit," as he ducked down quickly while firing twice at the back of the slick Fed.

Tony's good hearing had him duck, swivel and shoot at the same moment as both Ziva and McGee. As Blevin collapsed to the ground, both agents stared at DiNozzo, amazed to not see him fall injured. They glanced wide-eyed at each other before Ziva began securing Jacobs while McGee secured Blevin's gun. Having confirmed Blevin's death, McGee was glad of his extensive experience as a field agent on this team, since despite being slightly overwhelmed by what just happened he shifted without conscious thought to secure Hennesy.

McGee's unease only grew as he heard Tony's deliberate voice continue speaking to Hennesey as if nothing had happened. Both men however were now looking at Blevin's twisted form. "Guess it was his moment today, huh Tauriq? While we get some breakfast those knives will be figuring out which bullet killed him first." Tony looked around for the stray bullets meant to kill him, finding them in the wall directly behind where he had been standing.

As McGee searched the restrained leader's pockets, Tony inhaled deeply and met Hennesy's eyes once more. "You made a good choice today Tauriq." Their intimate moment over, he nodded one last time as he stepped away to start making phone calls.

Still unconsciously being led, Hennesy also breathed deeply as his eyes flitted back to Blevin. The black powder smell was replaced by the odor of copious blood and other bodily fluids... Hennesy swallowed convulsively once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Balboa's team was able to come within the hour after all, their call-out a bust. As two of their agents drove off with the 'suspects', the others helped process the scene and place collected electronics and other items for forensics into a van. Ducky and Palmer had already removed the body and had probably already begun their preliminary examination as the agents wrapped up their work on-site.

Tim finally managed to catch Ziva by the open trunk of their sedan. "Ziva? Do you think he's freaking any? _I'm_ still freaking a little… You don't think he really believes that stuff, do you? I mean, he was just crawling into that guy's head, right? I've seen him do that before… and Gibbs… but it doesn't usually involve holding guns at each other's heads and a dripping hole for the love of…" McGee knew that had to remind Tony of Kate even more than it did himself. _How could he… Jeez._

"I do not know Tim. With Tony, it is always hard to tell. We tire of his usual shallowness, but his depths may be too dark for our comfort." Shrugging, she added, "It worked, it is over." Seeing Tim was still, as he put it, freaking out a little, she continued, "Take him this bottle of water, he might talk to you better than me right now."

"Right," McGee said uncertainly. He had the impression Ziva already knew more of Tony's "darkness" than he did. And talking with Tony about something personal did not always provide answers, usually just more questions… or a load of irritation.

Ziva knew McGee would do better with definite data to collect. "And Tim, check…" she flashed the team-only hand signal of a curved hand in front of her torso; a shaking hand holding a bottle.

McGee nodded and seemed more settled as he walked off to find Tony, still searching for any hidden evidence in the warehouse. Ziva had long ago taught Tim how to check for the almost imperceptible signs such as shaking hands that DiNozzo was becoming hypoglycemic; in need of a snack to restore his blood sugar before becoming snappish, maudlin, or worse possibly.

Considering the many insufferable moods of the standard healthy DiNozzo, Tim and Ziva teamed up whenever possible to ward off the avoidable unhealthy variations. They had once laughed about the odd fairness of themselves shielding the team, the two of them mostly, from Tony's down moods this way, while he protected the team from Gibbs' far more alarming bad moods with his own body when necessary.

* * *

Tony knew he was still... off. He'd be trapped in that bubble of intimacy for a while yet, especially when he closed his eyes. He could still feel Hennesy's warm body pressed along his front, and the smell of the sweet soda he must have been drinking minutes before their… moment… together.

The SFA could feel his altered state in every sensory experience for now. Every sound, every smell seemed new and precious. And it felt remarkable that he was still alive to experience them one after the other. The feel of his cell phone in his hand, tiny buttons yielding with their tiny click to his thumb. The vibration of his voice tickling his nose. The cooing of pigeons shuffling on the fire escape. Shutter click of the crime scene camera. Dust motes floating through the room, sparkling in the sunlight.

The abrupt scream of the body bag's zipper forced him to close his eyes and breath deeply for a moment.

He'd been processing the scene remotely so far, long habit directing him more than any conscious thought. He knew from long experience just to keep moving, get the job done. Do not look back, look forward. Dwelling on this oddness led nowhere… although he could see it leading him to "just walk the earth" like Jules in _Pulp Fiction_. Or becoming lost in the senses like newly-turned Louis in _Interview with the Vampire_.

Heaving another sigh, he nodded calmly. _Yep, definitely time to get back to work._

The summer sun was well up, and the warehouse had become sweltering in no time. The strange warm fluidity of his altered mental state felt perfectly matched in the warm sweat rolling down his body by now. Tony DiNozzo knew he was a grateful man, a lucky one, and was so in his element at this filthy hot crime scene that he caught a soft smile on his face at odd moments. But the NCIS jacket still felt like an oven mitt.

He'd been glad there was such a large area to process, and they found a tremendous amount of evidence that should destroy the network entirely. But Tim had said on first impression the computer didn't look like it held all that much, and Tony had a feeling something was left to be found. He prowled around the office one more time, letting details sift into his subconscious however they liked. At the same time he also tried to tune out that same subconscious attempting to compare the sensation of sweat rolling down his back to his body's tears of relief and joy. It was no surprise to him his subconscious gushed poetic at times like these.

* * *

DiNozzo was staring with hands on hips at the giant old metal office desk that had held the computer when McGee found him. Standing at the SFA's side, he cracked open the bottle of water and handed it to Tony, "Here. Ziva's ready to go."

Half a guzzled bottle of water later, Tim thought Tony's blood sugar might be ok, but he was thirsty as a fish. Tim also decided to go with his standard opening ploy of obviousness… since he'd never found another conversation opener that had worked any better.

"You ok?"

Finishing the bottle with a loud satisfied sigh, Tony wiped his lips and said, "I'm beyond ok McDasani, now I'm fluidly fantastic. Didn't realize how thirsty I was, thanks."

It was ironic that the actual, verbal gratitude raised a red flag for Tim that something was wrong with the older man. He decided to attempt a Gibbs interrogation method - say very little and let the other guy just ramble out the desired info… worked for Gibbs all the time. Although Tim was too smart to fully expect the same thing would work for him right now, especially with Tony.

"So… earlier…?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, earlier you said what was on the computer wasn't enough so I'm still looking."

"I did say it could just be hidden better than my first impression showed too."

"Sure, but I bet you were right Tim, I trust you with this stuff." He continued to stare distractedly at the walls, dirty windows and 1950's era furniture.

"Plenty of reason to. Of course I wouldn't trust you with driving my car or dressing me…" he paused to glance sideways at the junior agent, "… or yourself. But you, a computer, and evidence… no question." He sat at the old table in the equally ancient heavy metal chair and craned his head back to look at the open ceiling, frowning at ductwork and electrical lines hanging down randomly.

Tim had long since learned to tune out the insults in order to glean the praise of his skills from Tony. At least Tony threw it out there sometimes, unlike Gibbs or even Ziva. But right now he couldn't tell if Tony was just trying to distract him from the question, or really didn't know which "earlier" Tim was referring to.

And Tim really, really just wanted to drop it. He had a feeling Gibbs wouldn't pursue this now, or Ziva. But he'd learned to follow his own instincts over the years, so another round of "What Would Gibbs Do" just wasn't good enough here. The younger man might not always enjoy Tony's… excessive Tony-ness, but he did admire him… in certain areas, such as what the senior agent pulled off this morning.

Tim was so, _so_ glad Tony wasn't actually his brother, but couldn't deny that basically had become their roles for each other over the years. And it twisted Tim up inside that Tony might just be _waiting_ to die in the line of duty. Planning on it. That wasn't just inevitable, wasn't supposed to happen. Tim swallowed, his chest tight. They were supposed to get old enough together so that Tim could tease him mercilessly about hair loss and needing reading glasses.

While Tim angsted over his next question, Tony had switched to tapping a rhythm with both hands while staring at the floor around the desk. As he stood to move the chair, he froze with hands on the armrests and cocked his head to the side. Head whipping up to stare high on the wall behind the chair, he snapped an arm pointing out behind him and said, "Probie, is that metal folding chair missing the rubber tip on the front right leg?

McGee's heart beat a little faster, seeing Tony was onto something. Tim loved it when this happened… which he naturally showed by being quarrelsome. "Yeah. You know, it's not really rubber anymore…" By then Tony was flapping his hand rapidly, indicating to bring it. Or having a bizarre muscle spasm.

Tim set the unfolded metal chair on top of the heavy office chair where Tony pointed, and he continued speaking as Tony climbed up to look at an air conditioner vent on the wall. "…hasn't been rubber for decades really. Rubberized plastic is an entirely different…"

Tony cut him off frowning, "Hand me your phone."

Tim's hand was already reaching for it while he protested, "Why my phone? I can see yours right there!"

"Yours has a better camera McWhiny Kodak moment!" He snapped two pictures from different angles before huffing and climbing down reluctantly. "Zoom into the shadows as much as you can. Those wires or just pieces of insulation?"

"There's a flash drive!"

"Yes, I know that. I don't know if it's booby trapped or not though. I'm thinking insulation, yeah?"

Tim quickly forwarded the snapshots on to Ziva with the text 'booby-trap?' "She'll be here in just a second."

Tony was distracted, thinking aloud, "These guys were bad bad men, but not munitions experts, not even one explosion in their history. They knew we were onto them, that they'd have to move fast possibly…" He wandered closer to the chairs, looking up at the vent.

"Just give Ziva a minute, what can it hurt? We don't know all their history, there could be…"

The SFA cut him off again, "Yeah. Give Ziva a call, make sure she's bringing the good camera." Tony started climbing the chairs again.

"I did. Here Tony." Ziva handed the camera up, continuing, "The best I can make out it is just insulation."

"Good. Stand in the doorway, both of you."

"Tony, come on. That's really not…"

Still distracted as he focused on snapping more scene photographs, the senior agent then stowed the camera strap over his shoulder. "Stand. In. The. Doorway."

Sharing an eye roll with Tim, but at least both moved to the door. Ziva called out, "Clear Tony."

Unscrewing and pulling out the vent carefully, Tony snapped more pictures one handed and called them back over calmly. "Alright then! I'm out of evidence bags - need one large bag for the vent, two regular size for the flash drive and…" his smiling face beamed at them while holding up thick bundles of cash in his gloved hand, "Money!"

* * *

In the rather odiferous car ride back, McGee was less 'freaked out', but still worried in the backseat. It felt like he'd missed his moment to bring up his concerns. But then he remembered all the deeply irritating times Tony persisted with his nosy behavior into their personal lives, declaring it was what made him a great investigator, and decided blatant turnabout was fair play. Besides, this at least was work related, and Ziva was distracted on her phone with an international contact.

"Tony, can I ask a question about your… conversation with Hennesy?"

"Hummmm. Yeah. Rather you not. This shark's got to keep swimming, ya know." Tony was silent while driving for a moment. Frowning slightly, he was dissatisfied with himself. He always tried to answer the kind of questions his Probie just wouldn't ask Gibbs. He sighed and made a valiant effort to extend a branch to the younger agent.

"I mean, I know it's a... thing, o.k.? Just not now. Not 'not' indefinitely. That's like telling you not to think about a pink marshmallow mainframe." He paused, then smirked, "Admit it, it's totally all you can think about now, yeah?"

McGee sighed, frustrated at both of them, "Yes!" He decided to go along with "the shark's" wishes and drop it, there had to be a better time than this to get DiNozzo to be serious with him.

And wouldn't most of the marshmallows melt with the heat of an average mainframe? The color was totally irrelevant.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: One chapter left after this one. Thanks to all who are reading and/or reviewing!_

* * *

Chapter 4

The team had been working this case long hours for three weeks, and despite the extensive trail-following that would come, they were essentially done with the groundwork. Finally freed from MTAC, Gibbs was highly satisfied with his agents' results, and glad as hell DiNozzo had friends in low places on the street. The follow-up on the contents of the flash drive and other documents would be ongoing, but at least the murder of Commander Simmons was solved, his family returned, and the guilty caught - with enough evidence that prosecution would be a breeze.

As he turned to interrogate Hennesy and Jacobs, Gibbs said he still expected their reports ASAP, but wanted them coherent and send his agents for a three hour rest break after an early lunch. He said when he got done with the interrogations he wanted their incident and case reports before they went home that night.

Gibbs was pleased overall, but wished like hell he'd been with them on-site this morning. Somehow, between DiNozzo and David's verbal reports he still felt like he was missing something. Something that made McGee twitchy, glancing over often to DiNozzo before delving into the flash drive's contents.

_"During the stalemate, I convinced Hennesy to hand over his weapon and order his men to do likewise. Blevin declined with some very foul language Boss, and with a couple of shots, so all three of NCI-us aerated him."_

_"McGee and I maintained cover on the first two while DiNozzo… talked to Hennesy. Then…"_

_"Talked?"_

_"Yes," she smirked. "You know… DiNozzo's most deadly weapon." But then she grew thoughtful, adding, "It was a bit… intense. They had guns at each other's temples. And then Blevin would have shot Tony twice if he hadn't ducked." She paused, nodding, "He seems fine now however."_

Well, he'd get to the bottom of it one way or another. DiNozzo seemed steady after a trip to Autopsy shortly after the team had returned… if a little overly productive both before and after his nap in Abby's lab. Shaking his head as he dialed in the delivery order for their dinner. No sense putting a brick wall in front of his best horse, he'd just try and jump it anyway until he was ready to stop.

* * *

As Tony and Tim finished both their dinners and reports, Ziva called goodnight to Tim as she put her report on Tony's desk. She brushed her knuckles against Tony's before throwing her pack over her shoulder. Looking into his eyes she said quietly, "I will be up for a couple of hours, going on a run. Call if you want to meet for a drink, ok?"

Despite the nap, Tony still felt like the day was all catching up to him, and his bed was calling him home. His sleepy smile was small, but sincere. "Thanks Ziva. If I don't, enjoy your day off tomorrow, ok?" The smile changed to a smirk, "Lay out in the sun by a pool, get some color back on that skin, and think of me."

She predictably rolled her eyes before turning to the elevator. "I might do two of those things tomorrow Tony, but not three."

He raised his voice as she walked away, "If you want to just lay out and think of me, who am I to say no?"

As the elevator carried Ziva away, Tony ducked reflexively, looking over both shoulders before relaxing. "I felt a cold breeze on the back of my head. Whew. I bet that new redhead is on shift at the coffee shop. I think there's a smooth talking silver devil at work Tim, heh." He wrapped up the comprehensive ballistics report on his screen and opened Ziva's to review.

Checking the time, and gauging how much for Tim's sake he didn't want this hanging over them, or being swept under the rug, he made his decision. "Hey Tim, you want my eggroll? I'm stuffed."

"Sure…" Wait, that was odd enough to bring Tim's head up out of his report writing. _Tony's offering food?_ Staring at his partner for signs of duplicity that the eggroll had been tampered with, Tim suddenly remembered… and was concerned all over again. He felt a sense of urgency in case he lost his chance to talk about it with Tony again. Tim's mouth outrunning his brain, he just spoke straight from the heart.

"Tony… it's just... look, it sounded kinda like you meant it this morning Tony. I mean I know he was supposed to believe it, and maybe I just got sucked in even without the… the…" He pointed in frustration with two fingers to his eyes.

Nodding comically, Tony agreed knowingly, "Eye juice? The whammy? My 'cacaw' moment?"

"Cacaw?"

"How can you not have seen _Evolution_ with David Duchovny? It's sci fi, McGeek, I'm disappointed in you. Anyway," he took a deep breath and tilted his head towards the younger, terribly serious man. "I made a split decision what would work on Hennesy, for the ideal outcome. Sometimes, I take a truth and make a balloon animal out of it. Had a feeling based on his profile it might work on him. Went for it. He took a little trip with me. Worked out. " He smiled slightly, "I don't suppose there's any convincing you to just let it go? I'm entirely fine, countless ladies will attest to it."

"I need to know you don't really think that's inevitable Tony. That it's really fated or something. There's no countdown to you getting shot, you don't _have_ to die in the line of duty. You…"

Very quiet, and calm, and reminding Tim a little of the rolling delivery at dawn this morning, Tony interrupted him.

"Have really bad lungs Tim."

Tony stopped for a moment, briefly making eye contact, but then addressing most of his remarks to Tim's desk.

"I don't talk about it, don't want to talk about it, can't live my life thinking about it. But I can feel it Tim. Sometimes worse than others, worse than the inhaler prescriptions can smooth over for me. And it reminds me, the fact is… I always just figured I'd die on the job anyway. Thought I'd be dead by now really. But if I don't die doing my job, using my life somehow beneficially, like catching the scum we got this morning… I'm probably going to die drowning in my own lungs, in a hospital environment I hate, desperately gasping for breath."

Wincing and shaking his head, he continued doggedly. "I've done that, you remember almost as well as me I bet. Just because we don't talk about it, don't think I ever forgot how you helped me, when I was too tired to lift my own head, let alone sit up to cough crap out… your arms felt like you were made out of steel man. I had lots of support from you guys, Gibbs…" He smiled softly before taking a breath to continue.

"But years from now, I get old... body doesn't get over things so well. Percentages of survival go way down, and who knows if anybody'll still be around help to pull me through. And I'd really rather not shoot myself… So I did pretty much mean it Tim."

"It may not be inevitable, but to me, it is preferable."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Tim was silent, brow furrowed. He wanted to disagree, point out the flaws in that logic, every last bit of it. Except for the parts he realized were entirely valid for someone in Tony's shoes. He also began to feel humbled as he realized what this conversation was skirting around, what truly decent, honorable people rarely verbalized. A sincere desire to be useful in the service of Good, to whatever extremes that may require at any given time. This was Tony's core, this was his solid rock interior that Abby went on about. It had been this way well before he caught the plague. Maybe it was a mistake to poke holes in that without some serious thought… especially after a day like today.

And even more than the content of DiNozzo's apparent philosophy, Tim was shocked by the voluntary nature of Tony's words about something so terribly personal. Their own little intimate moment. And then he realized he shouldn't be shocked, Tony had no doubt chosen to talk about this for some reason. Every so often over the years, Tony dropped his deeply annoying ways of triviality and just talked about actual important things. Sometimes it was just when the senior agent was just too tired or distracted to keep up his usual defenses. But quite often, it involved something his Probie needed to understand to become better at his job, possibly better in his life. Teaching moments, luckily imparted without arrogance or condescension… although it had taken Tim a long time to realize that as compared to the usual DiNozzo impression of arrogance and condescension. Tim's knee-jerk reaction to almost anything vaguely like the voice of experience from Tony years ago was shameful to the younger man when he had finally realized what he was doing. His insecurity about his lack of law enforcement experience, his lack of street smarts, had been overwhelming at times. Tim thought he was doing better about that the last couple of years.

So what did Tony want him to take away from this conversation? Everyone on the team would give their lives if necessary, Tim was sure Tony felt that included his former Probie. The younger man knew he hadn't been tested as often as the other members of the team, but with Tony's "heart of a lion" description while under truth serum, Tim knew Tony didn't think he was shy in valor. So was the point just to open up more to his teammates? There was that bucket list item of Tony's…

Tim decided to try and lighten things back up, to let Tony know he understood his explanation, and would accept it without argument… for now at least. But he was still curious what else his SFA might be trying to tell him.

Well, one thing he had learned from the DiNozzo Secondary Standard Method of information gathering (the first purely involved charisma) was the Bear Maneuver; actually several different strategies accomplishing the same goal. It was also used, mostly by Tony, in Gibbs-diffusion when necessary. _Sometimes you have to poke the bear…_

Grinning with a head tilt to broadcast to the older man that he was teasing, "…-er. Get old-er you mean. As if you don't already have a foot in the door of decrepit Tony."

Rolling his eyes with his own grin, Tony shook his head and told the ceiling, "Karma. Wicked, mean karma getting me back for… well pretty much my entire life of teasing old people. Or just teasing you. Or both. Yeesh."

He shuddered theatrically before continuing, "The thing is, the actual incident this morning, the way I choose to take Tauriq on a little ride with me? Don't want you thinking that's something you're ever expected to do in a similar situation. My worldview aside, we all as agents have to go with what we're most confident will work for us. You have methods and abilities that work great for you. But that kind of thing this morning would not work for you, you know that, right?"

"Well… you're right… but shouldn't it eventually? I might grow into that kind of… whammy thing… the same as I have the other parts of being a good field agent." Tim sounded a little skeptical himself.

"Not gonna say it's impossible Tim, am gonna say it's improbable. Wish I didn't have to say this, because don't get me wrong - you are very weird Elf Lord, but you're just not weird enough… in here." Pointing to his head, Tony continued. "The way I picture it, you have to firmly scoop up your own mental instabilities with both hands and pour them straight into the other guy's head. And you my dear Timmy, are just too darn mentally stable for that."

Tony shook his head while affecting a faux-sympathetic look. "I'm sure your parents at least are very proud, Tim."

Tim rolled his eyes, although glad his curiosity had been satisfied, and retorted, "So you're saying you make your mental instability work for you?"

"Yep, Probie. Me and Tauriq would have to agree with you." Tony replied smugly, but laughing as he did, especially as Gibbs rounded the corner.

"So glad something's working around here, you both done with your reports?"

"Boss! Just reviewing Ziva's, mine and McSpeedy's incident reports are on your desk, the CompBallist is filed, and McGee was just finishing…"

"Coordinating different sections of the flash drive contents for different agencies to follow up on Boss, almost done."

They worked in silence, the floor mostly empty that night, until Tim finished his work and gathered his things to leave. He said goodnight to Gibbs, then stopped in front of Tony's desk. "Let's see if you know this one." He held a finger up, "To be continued…" He raised his eyebrows, knowing the quote was unlikely to stump his friend… his deeply annoying older brother.

Befuddled for only a second, Tony's voice rose as he snapped his fingers, "Oh, oh! Ah... Vincent to Jules in the diner, _Pulp Fiction_!"

He smiled, but then returned to confusion, "Was just thinking of that film today. Continuing?"

"Don't think I'm letting it go forever. Rule #8 Tony, sounds like you're assuming to me."

"Oh, Rule #11 McPollyAnna, drop it already."

Shaking his head while walking to the elevator, Tim called, "DiNozzo Rule #1 Tony. Goodnight!"

Huffing out a breath, Tony glanced over to Gibbs. "He's getting better at getting the last word. You know we've created a monster, right Boss?"

A grunt answered him. "I like DiNozzo's Rule #1. Sounds like he had cause to think you might be in trouble."

"Whoa Boss, don't you pile on too." Pointing a finger at the man walking closer and pulling over McGee's chair to sit comfortably next his SFA's desk, Tony continued, "There's no trouble here, I'm trouble-free! I'm the calorie-free cola of very special agents Boss."

"I just read the reports DiNozzo… I read between the lines. Interrogated Jacobs and the bastard you had to get cozy with. Hennesy was pretty easy to push once I mentioned I could get you to come talk to him again. Started going on about his Nana with the Sight, and how you had the 'deadlight' in your eyes..."

Tony pretended to preen, "That scum says the sweetest things."

"And he went on about being alive in five seconds and five weeks..."

Tony sighed quietly and found Gibbs' trouser-leg texture fascinating.

"...and I heard everything after 'smooth talking silver devil'?" Eyebrows raised, Gibbs tried not to laugh as his suddenly startled SFA looked him in the eyes.

"Oh. Ahh…" Tony rapidly tried to think what was said and if he was in some sort of trouble. "You know that's a total compliment, right Boss?" His big smile tried to distract the older man, "I've seen you turn on the charm Gibbs, that smile ought to be registered as a…"

"Tony."

Just one word turned the verbal faucet off in the younger man. A good sign to Gibbs, it wouldn't take long to get Tony plain speaking with him. Then had gotten better at doing this without the benefit of a basement or bourbon over the years. Although, considering the situation, a pull from his flask was sounding mighty appealing at the moment.

Leaning back with laced fingers resting on his waist and crossing a leg, Gibbs continued, "I know that kind of life or death moment. And I know you. How'd you get yourself settled Tony? Ducky?"

Tony knew from long experience when Gibbs was like this just to give him what he wanted, it was easier on both of them. "Sort of. Really helps to see a corpse. Ducky lets me… sounds weird... guess because it is weird... but just touching a cold dead ankle is like the arrestor wire on an aircraft carrier, you know? Everything just stops. You can't be more in the present moment all the sudden."

"Yeah, can see that. Kick you out of that headspace?"

"Pretty much. Pretty much. Things just a little glowy still. Little gleaming and luminous around the edges every once in a while." He closed eyes, shaking his head at himself. "Nothing twelve hours of sleep won't finish off."

Nodding slightly, Gibbs said, "Come on over tonight." Holding up a hand to Tony's automatic objection, "I know you're ok. This isn't your first rodeo. But that type of… connection with somebody else makes being alone later… tough. You know it."

Tony did know it. Especially considering he was almost missing the physicality of the morning encounter, and having to cut that line of thinking off with the feel of a corpse under his hand. Crashing at Gibbs' tonight was sounding pretty good actually.

"Yeah… yeah. Thanks." He took a tired breath, "Thought you might take a swing at lecturing me like Tim's going to try and do."

"Nah. Not exactly a big surprise to you we're alike in a lot of ways. That's one. Know you're not taking risks you shouldn't be, not trying to take short cuts to the finish line. That matters."

Gibbs was thoughtful for a moment, then continued. "Hated Mike getting killed just because I called him for help. But a fight against a serial murderer… getting the guy we hadn't been able to touch wounded at least? It's the way he'd have preferred going out. Compared to dying in a bed of lung cancer. He'd have wasted a bullet on himself before that, and none of us want to go that way."

Tony respected that Gibbs wanted to go out the same way as himself… but he hated thinking of a future without Gibbs in it.

"Yeah." Tony was silent for a moment, and had to swallow before continuing.

"Thing is Boss... really appreciate it if you didn't kick off anytime soon." He couldn't quite make eye contact.

Gibbs stood up while reaching over to grip Tony's shoulder hard, "Likewise Tony, likewise. Come on, let's head out. You're making pancakes in the morning."

"Ah, Boss, remember that didn't go so well last time." Tony huffed out a grateful laugh as he stood.

"Well, hope springs eternal DiNozzo." He stopped and looked Tony in the eyes for a moment, saying more than his words. "Rule #8 applies across the board Tony, never forget that. Let's go."

"Me and chocolate chips are on your six Boss."

"See, I think the chips are why they burned last time…"

The squabbling continued as the elevator doors closed. "Don't blame the chocolate Boss, never blame the chocolate… that ought to be a rule…"

Fin

* * *

Thanks to everyone for reading!

Rule reminders:  
Rule #8: Never assume/take anything for granted.  
Rule #11: When the job is done, walk away.  
DiNozzo Rule #1: Don't sit on the sidelines while your people are in trouble.


End file.
